Collision Course
Sleep in the beginning
of this yearly adventure
flirtatiously flitted
around the periphery
of consciousness,
not quite
stepping into view.
Now, near the end,
sleep collides
with my eyes,
forcing blackout periods
from which I startle
and jump mid word,
a deer fleeing the hunt,
an involuntary response
to bone deep exhaustion
whose only remedy now
is sleep.
Ooh. . . I like this.
Sleep starts this, pops up in the middle (truly coming as a shock), and then ends this poem. Good for you! I also like the contrast between a flirtatious anticipation of fun with bone deep exhaustion. You captured the concept of sleep, but more so you told a story here.
Love this, Tracy – especially this
flirtatiously flitted
around the periphery
of consciousness
Because even if not working hour-24 of a writing marathon, this would resonate on a pretty universal scale.